Welcome to
 The Joyful Musician Blog

You've mapped out your practice schedule, chosen your repertoire, and drilled every difficult passage. But when I review musicians' audition prep plans, I consistently spot the same missing elements that can derail even the most technically prepared performer. These aren't about your playing — they're about everything that happens before and after you touch your instrument.

A low-ranking sheriff in 202 BCE made a choice that changed history — and it's the same choice every musician with performance anxiety needs to make. Because as a result, he founded one of China's greatest dynasties. Here's what his story reveals about the fears you're still carrying from music school.

What do you do when you’re tired, distracted, or just not feeling it? You practise showing up anyway — but you do it gently. This letter is for the musicians who don't want to avoid everything on those days when things don't feel right.

The other day I read something that made me laugh… and then made me deeply uncomfortable. It was about how we slowly stop being the protagonist in our own lives. And I thought about being a musician: Solos. Applause. And the dreams we quietly shelve.

You thought ‘fall’ was just because the leaves are falling, didn’t you? Me too. But this old forgotten word opened up a perspective I didn’t know I needed — especially when it comes to confidence, performing, and all the quiet pressure we carry as musicians. Let’s talk about what needs to fall.

Remember when fantasy stories made it feel like magic could happen to anyone? An old book, a glowing key, a hidden doorway… and suddenly an ordinary person was changed forever. Somewhere along the way, that narrative shifted — and not just in books. The same quiet shift crept into how we see music, talent, and ourselves. What if the story you’ve been told about who gets to be “special” isn’t the truth at all?

After 19 years of trying, singer Max Fox begged Simon Cowell for a chance — and got it. His story is a reminder that courage, not luck, carries musicians forward. Here’s why every performer needs a guide to steady the nerves and take their shot when it matters most.

She spotted him in the front row. Her chest tightened, her thoughts scattered, and the weight of the moment felt crushing... but this concert changed how she approaches every performance — and it’s something you can learn too.

Everyone told me it wasn’t a real thing. That musicians wouldn’t pay for it. That it wasn’t what “serious” professionals did. But after years of watching talented performers unravel under pressure—and knowing exactly how that feels—I chose to do it anyway. Here’s why I left traditional music teaching to become a performance and confidence coach for musicians... and why I’ve never looked back.

What if your endless scrolling isn’t just a bad habit — but a sign of something deeper? In this post, I share a surprising study and a little personal story that reveals why stillness feels so hard for so many musicians. If you’ve ever reached for your phone without thinking, you’ll want to read this. This will change how you approach rest, focus, and confidence in your music career.

Most artists never get to experience their work the way musicians do. Here’s why making music is a rare, real-time creative privilege — and why it matters.

A decade-old ballet injury still flares up when I push too far. Strange how one reckless moment can linger for years. But here’s the thing — I see the same thing in musicians all the time. Not physical pain, but something else. Something quieter… and harder to spot.

If you’re a heart-led musician who's ever been called too sensitive, too emotional, or too much... and you've been burned by the industry or those in power — the problem may not be you. Let’s talk about it.

I found a game called Vampire Therapist — sounds ridiculous, right? Ancient, powerful vampires… in therapy for imposter syndrome. At first I laughed. Then I realised: I’ve met people like this. Not vampires — but musicians at the top of their game, still haunted by doubt. This reminded me of one singer in particular…

A sheep went missing in New Zealand and wasn’t found for six years. By then, it had 60 pounds of wool — so much that if a predator had attacked, their teeth wouldn’t have gotten through. Not tougher. Just… softer. And it made me question this idea that musicians need a “thick skin” to survive. What if that advice is all wrong?

I came across the FIRE movement — Financial Independence, Retire Early — during the pandemic. On paper, it sounds smart. But what if you’re a musician? What are you retiring from? If making music feels so draining you fantasise about quitting… something’s gone wrong. Not with you — with the system that never taught you how to thrive.

If you’ve been meditating, journaling, doing all the “right things” — but still feel anxious on stage — you’re not alone. Most musicians are taught mindfulness in the wrong context. Calm settings don’t prepare you for chaos. It’s not that your brain is broken — it’s that your training never matched your reality. Here’s how to fix that.

I finally saw An Inspector Calls the other night. The production was stunning — but it was a single line that stayed with me: “If we don’t learn… we’ll suffer.” I couldn’t help thinking about music schools. The denial. The silence. The damage that’s still being ignored. But there’s something quietly powerful happening now — and if you’re part of it, I want you to know: it matters.